How Dark It Gets
by SilverFoxofMagic
Summary: When Stefan steals Rebekah's corpse, he doesn't stop to think through the consequences before pulling out the dagger.  Will loneliness and resentment be their only fate?  Four part story that takes place after "Homecoming."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hello! Silverfoxpunk & LastDayOfMagic here, with the first chapter of our first collaboration! We started this right after the winter hiatus began, when Stefan had just called Klaus to tell him he had his coffins, so obviously things are a bit different in the TV TVD-verse now, vs where our story starts and goes. It's a four-parter and we hope you enjoy our story of Stefan and Rebekah. Reviews are welcome and greatly appreciated! Oh, and feel free to follow us both on Twitter to see what we're up to - Silverfoxpunk & _lastdayofmagic.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 : Half of Us<strong>

**oOo  
><strong>

"I love you. I think… that I have for a while."

His fingers dug into the steering wheel. He resisted the temptation to slam his foot on the brake and grab her by the arms. He tried to keep a lid on his emotions, but Elena could see the tension in his jaw.

"And when Stefan comes back?" he said warily.

"It's over, Damon. You know it is. The question is, do you still want me?"

That did it. He swerved onto the shoulder and pressed the brake to the floor. A cloud of dust flew into the air as the tires left scorch marks in the dirt. He turned to face her and put his hands onto her shoulders, gripping her more roughly than he intended.

He looked deep into her eyes searchingly. "Are you certain this is what you want?"

She let herself smile, and suddenly all the tension disappeared from his body and he pulled her into his arms.

When he kissed her, it was as though taking the air from her lungs was not enough. He needed her body and soul. And as she melted into his body, she knew the puzzle for them both was complete. There was no going back. She had found the one she had been looking for.

* * *

><p>Even after acting without emotions for so long, Stefan still felt the familiar tightness in his throat, in his chest. The one that rose up whenever he thought of Elena with his brother. Except now, as a reality, it was nearly suffocating. It broke into his concentration. He could barely focus on anything else. If he were still human, he'd be out of his mind with grief and betrayal. But as a vampire that still hadn't completely flipped that switch back on, he had some perspective. He wasn't immune, but he could just about refrain from tearing out Damon's heart.<p>

Of course, the pair had put up a feeble protest. They told him that they had long fought their growing feelings. But he wasn't naive. After suffering through months of unrequited love, they surely thought they had waited long enough. At least that would probably be Damon's excuse anyway.

Stefan's lip curled into a snarl, but once again he forced himself to relax. After all, what was the point in saving his anger just for his brother? He knew he hadn't acted alone. Despite Elena's assurances otherwise, he always knew it was only a matter of time before they gave in to each other. It had been obvious all along how they felt.

And as for him, he knew that darkness remained inside him... Klaus' final little gift to him, he supposed. Staying away when his humanity had been returned had left Elena feeling alone and confused. But the evil he felt still dwelled in his heart wasn't exactly conducive to going home and making sweet love. He had suspected what result his hesitation would elicit.

But that didn't mean he could bring himself to give his blessing, nor could he stay and listen to what he knew would come next. He couldn't torture himself that way – his mind was already supplying enough images to drive him mad. He slipped out of the house as stealthily as he'd arrived.

And he didn't leave alone.

His fingers ran over her puckered, ashen skin, and down onto the red satin material. He paused for a moment, knowing that there was no turning back. But maybe it was time for a new chapter.

The dagger clattered to the floor at his side. He sunk down, his back against the wall, exhausted after driving and worrying for so many hours. Now the anxiety was at its pinnacle and he could barely will himself to sit and wait. Wait for her to wake up - wait for her wrath. Only time would tell if this was a mistake. He wasn't capable of stopping her if he couldn't calm her, bring her back from the edge.

Her chilling gasp tore through the silence, a sound that caused Stefan to jump as he'd been lost in his own thoughts. And then he found himself smashed against the far wall of his old apartment, plaster and dust crumbling around him.

"Where is she?" she snarled through clenched teeth. Her fury left little question as to who she was talking about.

"Elena's not here." He fought to keep his voice steady, even. "Rebekah-"

"Don't you dare protect that little bitch!" She rattled him against the wall again. "I'm going to rip out her heart and feed it to her!"

He winced from the way her fists pushed into his collarbones, but he kept his voice low, soothing – partially for his own benefit and partially in hopes that it might calm her as well. "She's not here," he repeated. "We aren't in Mystic Falls."

That was enough to catch her off-guard, to diffuse her tirade. Stefan could tell by the subtle confusion reflected in her knit brow. She glanced around the room slowly, her eyes stopping on the view beyond the windows.

"Chicago…?" Her voice had softened. "But why? What… what's happened? Where's Nik?"

Her sea blue eyes turned back upon him now apprehensively. Despite all of the flaws and betrayal, Klaus was still her brother. Her fingers loosened from around Stefan's neck, instead absently resting on the collar of his shirt as they often had many years ago. He saw that she noticed him spotting that, and she quickly pulled away. And then, as she waited for his answer, her lips parted in a way that definitely and painfully stirred a distant yet familiar longing.

It left him disconcerted that Klaus could erase such powerful emotions when he took away his memory. As soon as Klaus commanded him to remember, he was nearly knocked over by the intensity of his old feelings for Rebekah. Feelings that were never allowed to be resolved. He remained amazed that nothing had triggered her in his mind during the interceding years. Even if Elena had captured his heart now, he was certain Rebekah was his world then.

"He's alive," he said finally, breaking the trance of the moment. "And Mikael is dead. For good."

Her face pinched and she turned away, a wail caught in her throat as she retreated away from him to the other side of the room. He watched her shoulders heave and shake. He softened. He couldn't bear to leave her alone in her despair. He came to stand behind her and let his hands rest on her shoulders, gingerly at first until she made no move to push him away.

"He was my father ..." she said so quietly that even his hearing strained to pick it up. His hands kneaded her shoulders gently. "I want to hate Nik, but I can't." He leaned down and kissed her golden hair that smelled of dust.

She turned to face him, "Oh Stefan!" She pressed her hand against her mouth to stifle the sob that was sure to follow. And when he pulled her into his arms, she seemed to fit there like they had never been apart. He closed his eyes as she trembled against him with quiet sobs.

He couldn't help but wonder if she could see the eerie parallels between himself and Klaus. They had both killed both their parents. Sure, it wasn't intentional when he had killed his mother in childbirth and his father in anger, but he felt just as responsible for both. After living with the self loathing for a century and a half, Stefan was certain it was an internal flaw, the same one that led to his recklessness with human blood and his ripper side.

Rebekah touched his face, bringing him back into the moment.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked.

The tenderness in her eyes made him uncomfortable. She saw him as her savior for the moment, but he was hesitant because he knew she wouldn't like his answer. But he knew the poison that lies would create, even those told with good intentions. Not to mention that she could always see right through him.

"I didn't want you to harm Elena," he admitted and she stiffened in his arms, "Elijah betrayed her when it came to killing Klaus, and she couldn't take a chance on you doing the same. But in the end, I was the one to let them down."

"You killed my father?" Her eyes flashed with pain as she looked up at him.

He shook his head. "I stopped my brother from killing Klaus, because the hybrids would have murdered him and I couldn't have handled that. I'm sorry, Rebekah, but Klaus killed your father."

Rebekah paused as she absorbed the fact that she was orphaned by her brother's hand. The detail that Klaus murdered Mikael didn't appear to shock her, but a fleeting wounded expression still crossed her face; perhaps at the fact that her brother stole from her the chance to eventually reconcile with her father. She pulled herself from Stefan's embrace and crossed her arms, enveloping herself against the world.

"That still doesn't explain why you brought me here," she pressed and he swallowed, glancing down.

When he didn't answer, she placed her hands on his face, gentle yet firm, so he couldn't look away. He struggled over whether to tell her the truth, which was murky at best considering he himself hadn't yet worked out what he wanted from her. He was operating on instinct now more than anything else, and when Elena's admission to Damon early this morning stabbed somewhere within his chest, his thoughts turned to the blonde vampire before him. He didn't know if he would ever feel for her again as he once had, or if he could ever fully return to his humanity… but he knew he couldn't leave her there.

He sighed at the thought of dragging her into the muddled mess that was his mind, and of giving her hope for something he might never be able to fulfill. He decided it would be easier to give her the surface idea for their journey.

"I brought you here as collateral," he said after a few moments of heavy silence. "And to reunite you with your family."

"Collateral?"

He could see her temper rising but he nodded anyway. "We need to lure Klaus out, take him down once and for all. I'm pretty sure Elijah would be on board."

"And I'm just a token in your plan," she retorted. "All to save that girl," she spat out, "because she's everything to you-"

She left the other words unspoken, but he could hear it in her voice, 'because I mean nothing to you any more'.

"She's in love with Damon," he interrupted, perhaps more vehemently than he'd intended, but she stopped with a shocked look. "We're over," he added sullenly. If he thought saying the words out loud would help him, he was wrong. He frowned.

Her mouth formed a soft "o" and ever-astute, she got what he couldn't bring himself to say. Her eyes fell to the ground and her cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry," she offered just as quietly.

He nodded, running a hand through his hair, trying to temper the distress he was starting to feel - that distress which usually preceded wanton bloodshed to numb the pain. He couldn't afford to lose control now.

They stood in an awkward silence in this city that was never completely quiet - looking everywhere but at each other. He was beginning to worry this was a mistake. He didn't know if he could deal with the awkwardness right now. He needed to be alone and yet the thought was terrifying to him. Maybe it would have been easier to have just compelled tonight's dinner for some companionship before death. But the fakery left him feeling hollow and exhausted, and it served as a reminder of how fucked up his relationship with Elena had been ever since Damon wormed his way between them. Damon had consumed so many of her thoughts from nearly the beginning, thoughts where only Stefan should have been. His brother had careened in her mind from curiosity to flirtation to trust and now love.

And in the meantime Stefan was just Elena's security blanket, the strong arms to wrap around her in those moments of despair. He didn't doubt that she loved him as well, but it wasn't the same. She would never grasp how much he had sacrificed to save his brother. Somehow he knew he had saved Damon as much for her as he had for himself, as though that was the most graceful way to bow out of her life. And if she could have just let it go, instead of holding on and beating their relationship past the point of death, they would have all been better off. Instead she had to give him the deluded hope that despite everything he said, as much as he tried to push her away, she would still be there waiting for him after he found his way back to her, through all the destruction and dozens of bodies. The realization today that it wouldn't be happening killed something inside him, and now he needed with every fiber within him some common understanding, something real.

That was when Rebekah's specter called to him, taking hold in the forefront of his mind until they'd gotten here. But now, he worried that he would be doing the same to her as Elena had done to him. His feelings were dulled with the so-called switch off, and it was too hard to get a read on what he truly wanted. But he didn't dare let everything back in. That would nearly short-circuit him - send him over the edge.

Her voice broke through the quiet almost timidly and Stefan could only imagine how unstable he appeared at the moment when his gaze met hers.

"I'm a bit hungry," she admitted, and she shifted as she waited for his response.

He cursed himself, realizing that was what he had forgotten in his hurry to leave town. But too much vampire activity here would surely pique Klaus's interest, and he wasn't ready for that yet. Not until Elijah and the others were revived and on board with taking the hybrid down. "We need to keep a low profile, but I can get you some blood bags."

She nodded. "I understand. That would be lovely, thank you."

"You promise you won't leave?"

"I promise," she answered.

There were traces of hope gleaming in her eyes now, a familiar look that left him nauseous as it reminded him of himself. He couldn't bring himself to answer it. Instead he headed for the door, lingering for a moment at her soft sigh of disappointment. But he didn't let himself go to her. He just continued outside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: I Dream of You**

**oOo**

She was quiet, unhappy, bored.

She wandered around his apartment for days in the same mangy nightgown, eating bowls and bowls of Cheerios that she left half eaten in the sink for somebody else to clear up. Nobody did.

She watched hours and hours of daytime chat shows, endlessly amazed at the things people found okay to say to each other in this century.

She bought endless things on the shopping channel that she didn't even open, on a credit card that she didn't own.

She drank a lot of blood, which made her maudlin and aggressive.

She was silent all day and cried all night.

He couldn't help her. If a kind word came out of his mouth right now, it would open the floodgates for them both. He could only watch as she suffered. She was a girl out of her time, out of her place - grieving and lost.

Sometimes he just sat and covered his ears and let her rail at him. Sometimes she used her fists, sometimes she held him as she sobbed. He responded the same way. He did nothing.

Weeks passed. Months. They didn't hear from Klaus. They didn't hear from Elena or Damon.

He knew he needed time. He had to be functioning one-hundred percent before he took on the hybrid, and he was so far off of that mark he could practically see it going the other way.

If there really was a purgatory, then this had to be it. They were damned and they only had themselves to blame.

* * *

><p>He'd stopped measuring time. He'd stopped doing a lot of things actually. Eating was right up there, washing was a close second. She complained about that a lot.<p>

As soon as he could nail not dreaming, he would be a happy bunny.

What he did do, was write a lot. The words poured out of him like a flood. He filled dozens upon dozens of leather bound notebooks. He'd run out of space for them on his shelves, and they were heaped in towering piles around his living room; strange pillared guardians of his mattress, casually thrown on the floor to serve as a bed whilst Rebekah used the only bedroom.

Not that he slept. Most nights he wandered around Chicago with his hands in his pockets wondering how his life had spiraled into this.

"Stefan!"

He heard his name and sighed. What now?

"Stefan, it's a message from Nik!" Rebekah said opening his door without knocking. She never had understood the concept of personal space.

Nevertheless on hearing her news and seeing the phone she waved in her hand, he jumped to his feet. He was by her side in a flash and snatched the phone from her. As always, her first response was to sulk.

"I don't know why you have to be so rude," she huffed. "I would have given it to you if you just asked." He ignored her and let his eyes scan the text.

"What does this mean? It's gobbledegook. Just letters," he thrust the fascia under her nose angrily because she was to blame for him not understanding, for the weather being gloomy, for the fact it was a Tuesday -

She shrugged. "Even if I knew, what makes you think I'd tell you?"

He had her by her throat and against a wall in a second. His red eyes blazed at her. His veins pulsed.

"Get off of me," she said, as though she was telling a mischievous puppy not to jump up and muddy her skirt. "Who do you think you are?"

He dropped his hand and retracted his teeth. "I'm going out," he protested, slamming the door behind him.

"Good!" she shouted after him. She folded her arms and pouted.

* * *

><p>He took a walk through Grant Park and as no one was around, he leapt up to sit next to Lincoln at the memorial statue. His legs dangled over the side, his back touching the plinth of the 16th president. He liked the view of Chicago from here. The lights of the Willis Tower could be seen from everywhere, but from this angle he could actually see the Masonic Temple.<p>

He looked at his hands and sighed. He wondered what Elena was doing right now. Damon probably.

"So this is where you go to sulk."

He glanced down and saw Rebekah looking up at him, her golden hair almost white in the streetlight.

"So you can get dressed then?" he muttered bitterly, though he may have had a split-second of regret when he saw how her face briefly fell. But her tough exterior rebounded quickly, as did his apathy and irritation.

"Why are you so mean to me?"

"Because you let me be, I guess."

She leapt up next to him. There was hardly any space next to Lincoln, but she shoved him over enough to make sure she could sit. She mirrored his body language, dangling her feet over the edge and resting her clasped hands on her knees.

"Is this what you do all night?"

"Sometimes."

"Wow, looks like I missed a lot in ninety years." She looked at him with a faint smile, but it died quickly on her face. "I hate it here," she said, her voice suddenly cracking. "I hate this time. I don't understand anything. People are so... different."

"You'll adjust," Stefan responded, neatly demonstrating his current lack of empathy. She nodded, but after a moment or two her resolved cracked and she burst into tears. He actually had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he flung an arm around her as he felt obliged to do, but she shrugged him off.

"Don't do that if you don't mean it," she said accusatorily through teary eyes.

"What?" he replied with exasperation. "I can't do anything right!"

"You just don't get it do you?" She jumped down off the statue and began to walk away. Something about that irked him and so he leapt down too and went after her.

"What did I do now?" he complained gruffly.

She stopped dead and spun on her heel to face him.

"Do you know what it's been like for me? You've got to live, breathe and exist in the last ninety years, but one minute I'm living my life and the next minute I wake up and I've lost a century. Before I know it, I'm pulled into one of Nik's plans; which leaves me on my own, with my father dead, murdered by my brother. And you - you don't even notice me."

He frowned. Perhaps it was time he stopped assuming she was whining and actually listened to her.

"Oh, forget it," she said and began to walk away.

"I'm sorry," he called after her.

She turned to face him. "No you're not. And why should you be? You got to have a life, got to fall in love. Got to move on. Me, what did I get? A dagger through the heart."

She turned away and began to walk on, pulling the red coat she wore closer around her even though the evening was balmy.

A cyclist wove between them, probably heading home after a night shift. It served as a pithy reminder that what she said was true; while dust gathered on her corpse, life went on. He jogged to catch up to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Rebekah, wait."

She shrugged him off.

"Please!"

She slowed to a standstill, he moved in front of her and took her by the arms. "I'm sorry I haven't been very understanding. I realize it must have been rough for you -"

"You still don't get it, do you?" She shook her head. He looked confused. She pulled her arms tighter around herself and pushed past him, leaving him standing there feeling like he'd missed something, but couldn't work out what.

* * *

><p>In the morning when he entered the house, she didn't appear to be in her usual spot in front of the TV. He knocked on her bedroom door, when she didn't answer he spoke through the closed door. "Rebekah, please come out so we can talk." There was no answer. He frowned. "Rebekah?" Nothing.<p>

He tried the doorknob, and the door swung open easily. Her bed was unslept in. He dashed around the house in a panic, flinging open the few doors he did have.

She was definitely gone.

He was stood in the middle of the living room cursing himself for his stupidity. That message from Klaus was probably some code telling her that he was coming for her. He'd been so wrapped up in himself he'd missed it. "Shit!" he said out loud to the empty room.

"What's up?"

He spun around and saw Rebekah standing in the doorway, her arms laden with two large bags of groceries. "What?" she repeated, seeing his look of anger.

"Where have you been?"

"Disney Land, where do you think?" She pushed past him and went into the kitchen. He followed, glowering. She began to unpack the groceries, and he noted that earlier he had missed the fact that the kitchen was sparkling. She had cleaned up.

"I'm doing what you should have," she said into the fridge. "Acting normal. So Mr. Patel at the mart knows now that a lovely young couple of newlyweds has moved into this old abandoned flat. Word will get around quick enough." She turned and faced him accusatively. "Well, you want us to blend, don't you?"

He stared at her. She had combed her hair so that it looked like spun gold, and pinned it into a neat chignon. She had ditched the bulky red overcoat and wore the black designer one that nipped her in at the waist and showed off her legs. She undid it now and tossed it over a chair, and the red dress she had underneath certainly would have guaranteed that the shopkeeper would remember her.

"You know as well as I do Stefan - if all we do is eat blood and move around at night, then we are not blending. May as well wear a sign that says 'vampires'."

"I'd have thought you'd want Klaus to find you."

"Yet another thing you're wrong about then."

She pushed past him again and brewed them both coffee. She slid a cup over to him and went and sat at his kitchen table, sipping her own and staring at him. He slowly went to join her, sitting down at the other end of the table, feeling like this was some kind of awkward truce. He drank a bit of the coffee. It was the first human thing he had tasted in weeks. She'd remembered that he took his with cream.

She crossed her legs and her dress rode up a little, he could see the lace tops of her stockings. He looked away almost immediately, but it was too late, she had seen him. He suddenly felt dizzy with the memories that flooded his mind. She always wore stockings. The best silk ones that money could buy. He had remembered what it felt like to unclip them from the garter and run his hands down those smooth, long legs as he removed them, before his hands slipped back up to that responsive, soft, wet place between her legs. He glanced at her, his breathing a little ragged. She tilted her head to the side, her blue eyes glinting as though she could see precisely what he was thinking.

Before they knew what happening, their cups had smashed to the floor and he had her in his arms. She wrapped her legs tightly around his hips as he carried her at warp speed to his mattress. He fell on top of her, bruising her red lips in a breathless kiss. Her white-gold hair unravelled from its neat chignon and spilled across the mattress in a fragrant pool. He undid his belt and she helped him with his zipper. He tore at her panties and had them off her in seconds. He pushed up her dress and was inside her. She gasped as he thrust against her. She gripped at his ass as he ploughed into her. She was desperate for him to make eye-contact, but he looked ahead of him, concentrating only on the feeling of her surrounding him. His grunts of pleasure were just that - his pleasure, not hers.

He came quickly. Shuddering as he spilled into her. He collapsed onto her body and as she went to place her shaking hands on his back, he rolled off her. He panted as he looked at the ceiling. She turned onto her side and tried to place her hand on his chest, but he quickly got up and did up the jeans he hadn't removed.

He paused looking away from her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away," he said quietly, before walking out of the flat.

She turned onto her other side on the bare mattress, and she felt silent tears run into the fabric.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 : A vampire or a victim**

**oOo**

He didn't return for days. And she was lonely.

She almost reached out to Nik, but she stopped herself because he always seemed to have one of those pesky daggers handy, and loneliness beat playing dead for another century. Besides, she wasn't ready to forgive him yet.

Instead, she decided to cook. She wasn't overly domestic but at times it brought her peace, which she hadn't truly felt since she turned. But she didn't allow herself to dwell on the past too long as she pulled on her wide leg trousers and a turtleneck sweater, smoothing her hair into a chic bun. Mr. Patel gave her a warm smile when she entered his shop, one she returned with ease. She set about choosing the ingredients, dropping them into the basket that rested upon her arm. When she reached the counter a few minutes later, he was preoccupied by the small television to the side. He smiled at her again as she set her items out for him to ring up, but the warmth was replaced with tight worry.

"Dinner for your husband?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light.

"Yes," she lied. "He's been out of town on business."

She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she gave him a shy smile, but his face had clouded.

"You need to be careful," he said quietly. "On the news..."

He turned the small set so she could see it now. A pretty sunny blonde's photograph was on the TV, but from the grim expression on the anchor's face, she already knew. Now the photograph joined three others - blonde hair, blue eyes, bright smiles. All dead.

"You need help and your husband's not here, let me know. Don't want to see you end up like them." He wrote his number on the back of her receipt and dropped it into the paper bag. She nodded absently.

"Thank you." Rebekah managed to sound sincere before she pushed out the door and stepped into the brisk sunshine, letting the air she didn't need fill her lungs.

Those girls looked so much like her that they could've been her sisters. Most women would have felt a creeping fear run down their spines, a shudder of horror. But she was not most women. She knew the deaths were his way of dealing with emotions he couldn't yet put a label on. But she could.

Stefan was over Elena.

* * *

><p>She ventured out to a club not far from Gloria's later that night. She'd hoped that perhaps he would show up and join her for dinner, but she ate alone. It was probably better that way – she could relax instead of being rattled by his presence. She wasn't naïve – he would likely be in a mood when he returned, despite how clear it was that his sights were back on her.<p>

The wine enveloped her head in a gentle cloud, and she was hungry for something else. It'd been so long since Rebekah had blood hot from the source, and she longed to dance and feel attractive, to bask in the glow of the opposite sex. Her legs and cleavage were on display below her short tailored jacket, and as soon as she entered the dim space with flashing lights, she'd already garnered the attention of a few men.

She was greeted with a drink when she approached the bartender. Rebekah took a sip, its fruity taste pleasant and the alcohol potent. A handsome redhead a few stools away raised his cup to her and she winked in response before turning to head onto the dance floor. She closed her eyes as the beats and the bass traveled through her body, and she swayed along. It wasn't long before he was behind her, his hot breath upon her neck and his hands resting on her waist. Her skin tingled at the contact of a man who lusted for her.

"I haven't seen you around here before," he commented, his voice deep and husky.

She turned to face him with a coquettish smirk. His eyes were a greenish hazel shade, his hair a deep auburn more than red. She rested her hands upon the lean muscled chest hidden under his dark tee, and they moved together under the lights. He wasn't the one she wanted, but he would do for tonight.

"What's your name?" she asked, sliding her arms around his neck.

"Drew." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile and his fingers brushed over her sides.

"Thank you for the drink, Drew."

"And you are?"

She hesitated for a moment. Did she want to leave this as an anonymous one night stand? Her mind flitted back to how she'd played coy when she first met Stefan. "Bex," she said finally, settling on her old nickname. She could always compel him to forget.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Bex," he grinned.

She smiled again, and they danced close, surrounded by other sweaty bodies. It was too loud to carry on a conversation. And to be honest she wasn't in the mood to talk, as it meant fabricating more stories. Too much work since she was only after physical attention tonight.

His lust grew the longer they danced. Rebekah felt a bit smug when he gave in, his lips catching hers. She closed her eyes, picturing someone else, which wasn't too hard. Drew was a good kisser, and her body responded to his touch. It had been far too long.

His mouth left hers as he paused for a breath, and the song changed to one with a slower tempo.

"Let's find a dark corner," he suggested, eager to go further. She bristled inwardly at the suggestion, and she wasn't sure why. It felt safer to stay here, out in the open.

She gazed up with seductive eyes, to show him he'd still get what he wanted, later. "Can we finish this dance first?"

She molded her body against his after he nodded and let her head rest upon his shoulder.

But Rebekah didn't quite feel at ease, that sixth sense keeping her on guard. She sighed and opened her eyes, annoyed with herself. She'd intended to smile at Drew again, but something over his shoulder caught her attention. The gaze of a jealous lover.

Stefan leaned against the bar, his bottle of beer clutched in his hand nearly to the point of shattering. She wasn't sure why her heart wanted to pound out of her chest with guilt. He'd been the one to leave her, after all. But she couldn't help wondering how much he'd seen.

She didn't even have time to tell Drew that she needed to visit the ladies room before Stefan was in front of her, gripping into Drew's shoulder. Rebekah warily thought again of those girls on the news. He was in full-on ripper mode, unstable. She didn't want a massacre on the dance floor.

"Would you mind if I shared a dance with my wife?" Stefan asked, his eyes gleaming darkly.

Drew stammered, but Stefan didn't give him a chance to answer. Instead he pushed Drew out of the way before pulling Rebekah into his grip.

"Trying to forget me?" His tone was rough and her stomach flipped. She wasn't sure if it was out of nervousness that he might still lose it here around all of these bodies, with their warm blood pumping and roaring in his ears, or if it was out of a sick satisfaction that she'd gotten under his skin.

Her lips twisted into a pout and she refused to meet his stare, one which she was certain was undressing her. "You haven't given me any reason not to."

Rebekah cringed at what poor Drew must think of her now, what he'd tell his friends in the morning about the philandering hussy who'd nearly gotten him beaten up by her jealous husband. If only he knew how lucky he was to be walking out of here alive, in one piece. She wanted to be angry with Stefan for playing these games, but she knew he was just as screwed up as she was, and that as thick and self-absorbed as he could be at times, he was the only one here who understood her.

Stefan's hand cupped her ass, pulling her into direct contact with his body, and she let out a little moan as he pressed against her.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he admitted in a low voice, and she knew that was as close as she'd get to an apology tonight. His familiar cockiness was back with the bloodshed, the side he watered down around Elena. And Rebekah wanted to give in to nostalgia, to let him lead her straight to his bed, to make up after this heated spat as they had so many times.

But she was still defensive over the last few months. Yes, it was a drop in the ocean compared to eternity, but she'd been through so much – daggered right at the height of one emotional moment after another. A little support would've been nice as she tried to wind herself back down to normal. Instead he heaped onto her burden with apathy and mood swings.

"I saw the girls you mutilated," Rebekah replied icily. "Is that what you wish you could do to me, Stefan? Drain me and dismember me, so you don't have to bother with me again?"

Her voice was cruel. He stiffened in response. As closed off as he'd been, it was clear the pendulum had swung far in the opposite direction after the vacant sex they'd had. He was a wide open mess now - his emotions on his sleeve, his moods labile. But her own white hot anger was at the surface and overwhelming any concern she might've had for the innocent patrons around them. Her temper couldn't be contained, and her voice began to rise above the music, earning them more than a few curious glances. But she didn't care.

"I never asked to be brought here, you know. You might as well have left me dead –"

His mouth crashed down onto hers, effectively silencing her. She stood still for a moment, stunned, though she supposed she shouldn't be – isn't this how it went? But then his tongue traced over her lips in a way that had her mind zipping back to the 20's, his hands traveling along the outer edges of her breasts before they settled on her rib cage to pull her back tightly, against him where she belonged.

It was just one kiss, but when they separated her thoughts were flying all over the place, her breath caught in her chest. Damn him. She wanted him to grovel. She didn't want him to reappear and sweep her off of her feet, manipulating her till she didn't know if she was coming or going. And most of all, she didn't want to _feel_.

His forehead rested on hers, and Rebekah closed her eyes to regain her composure and shield herself from the effect he had on her. But she could still feel the intensity of his gaze.

"Let's leave, hmm?" he said, that smooth voice with its faint pleadingly persuasive edge. "Let's go home and talk."

"Talk, eh?" she challenged, her eyes opening give him a weak glare. Rebekah expected him to smirk and play the cocky bastard, but Stefan's face was as serious as ever and her angry resolve weakened. He answered with a subtle nod. She sighed. She was tired of fighting what she wanted out of spite.

So she ended up doing what she always did when it came to Stefan.

She gave in.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure?"<p>

She couldn't let herself believe she'd heard him right, despite seeing those pictures of her near-doppelgangers on the television. After a lifetime of disappointment, she didn't dare let herself believe.

"I can't get you out of my head, Rebekah," he said, his voice clear and unfaltering. "You're consuming my every thought. Why can't I leave the past where it belongs?"

"Because we were good together," she replied gently, stroking his face. He nodded his head once in terse agreement.

Stefan leaned over her now, and she rolled onto her back. They'd been lying on the bed in her room – their room now, perhaps – talking into the early hours of the morning. He'd confessed his fears, the ones he'd confronted. He'd confessed his sins, including those against her, and his concern that he couldn't overcome the ripping. She kept quiet, listening to him spill his guts, until he finally asked her what he had skirted around all night, the question that made her chest feel as if it might burst.

"I think I loved you, didn't I?"

"I never got to find out." She let her blue eyes examine his. "But I wanted to."

He shook his head. "He took you from me, and I hate him for that. But I've always held a part of you with me. Why else would I have kept your necklace all those years, without knowing why?"

"You gave it to Elena, Stefan. _My_ necklace."

He nodded. "I know." Sadness fleeted across his face, but he met her eyes again. "But she's not the one who's making me feel this way..."

Her own confession burned in her mind, until the words spilled out before she could stop herself.

"He compelled you because of me, Stefan. I'd threatened to leave him behind, to run away with you… he daggered me because he thought I'd betrayed him for you. And I did." He looked surprised, and she felt the tears stinging at the pain of the time they'd lost. If it wasn't for her selfishness, it would all be so different now.

"Don't blame yourself," he said. "We're here, together, now. Don't worry about the past."

He gazed down at her from above, his fingers taking the time to run over her hair, as he both remembered and re-memorized her.

"Then find me again," she gently pleaded, her eyes shining. "Make me remember, and make me forget."

Rebekah didn't have to prod him any further. Stefan kneeled above her, his fingers at the tops of her stockings. But he left them there, instead easing her skirt over her hips, followed by her camisole and underwear. His hands ran around her thighs and he parted her legs so he could lean in closer. She trembled in anticipation of his touch.

"I always loved you in these," he whispered darkly as his fingers kneaded into her flesh and she tightened her legs around him. "God you're so hot."

It was clear now that anyone but him tonight would have been a mistake.

He took her breast into his mouth. Her fingers gripped into his soft wavy hair, tugging until he growled at her and bit into her soft flesh. Rebekah gasped at the pain, but she let out a low giggle as it turned to pleasure.

"You always played dirty," she teased.

"I'll show you dirty," he smirked.

He lifted her off of the bed and pinned her high up against the far wall. His thumb ran lightly over the bundle of nerves between her legs and she tried to buck her hips forward for more contact.

Stefan chuckled, lowering his head down until his mouth came into contact with her wet center. His tongue probed deep, over and over, and her eyes rolled back as she crossed her legs around his head. She didn't ever want him to stop.

But her body began quivering from his ministrations, weakening enough so that he could pry himself loose. Rebekah foggily noticed he was naked and ready for her. He waited till she was nearly recovered before yanking her hips down against him, penetrating deep to join them completely. They cried out together, and her fingernails bit into his shoulders as he thrust into her. It was rough and fast but his eyes never left hers this time, except when his mouth bruised against hers with a kiss, their fangs nicking each other's lips. His blood tasted better than she'd remembered.

"Oh, Stefan," she moaned, and the hitch in her voice told him she was close. The mattress hit her back, and Rebekah was humming near the edge, suspended in a delicious purgatory while his fingers rolled over her clit. Stefan groaned when her stocking-ed legs ran over his skin, and she bit down on her lip to keep control. It was his eyes finally undid her, though – the bonfire of lust that blazed there – and her erratic cries of bliss triggered his own release.

His arms barely supported him above her afterward, and she felt his half-hard cock stir inside her. His gaze left her soul stripped bare, and her chest tightened at his intoxicating expression.

"I've missed this. Missed you. You're so unbelievably hot..." he panted into her ear.

With a growl, Stefan pushed up into her again. A lusty gasp escaped her. He hadn't forgotten how this used to go, and with just a few more thrusts she clamped down around him for the second time. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, her eyes squeezing shut as she rode out the last throes. Once her body relaxed, he pulled out of her, falling to her side.

But instead of turning away, his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her tight against him as he drew the covers up. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, whispering, "Bex, I want you to stay with me."

They laid there in a heavy silence, and Rebekah waited till he fell asleep before she let herself answer what her heart had never forgotten.

"I won't leave you again, Stefan. Not as long as we both walk this earth."

She intertwined her fingers with his before her own slumber consumed her, and neither woke for the cell phone that began to vibrate on the nightstand**.  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Awakening**

**oOo**

When she woke, the bed was empty. But before she had a chance to hyperventilate, Stefan walked in carrying a tray containing a glass of blood, and a stack of steaming hot pancakes oozing with maple syrup.

He climbed onto the bed beside her and Rebekah sat upright, letting him place the tray on her lap. She felt the bed compress as he leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"You remembered!" she said, grinning. Bacon bits, not slices.

He smirked as he stole a nugget of bacon from her plate and she swiped playfully at him, saying "Mine!" They both jumped when her phone suddenly vibrated loudly against the nightstand announcing she had voicemail.

"I didn't hear that ring," Stefan said, his brow furrowed.

"Neither did I...?"

Rebekah gave him a wary look. She reached out for her cell, dialed into her voicemail and then turned the speakerphone on. She wanted Stefan to know she wasn't keeping anything from him.

The voice they heard said a short sentence or two in a lyrical, but strangely guttural, language. Despite the strange tongue, both of them immediately recognized the voice.

"What does he want?" Stefan asked, his eyes immediately narrowing upon hearing Klaus speak. She bit her lip, feeling the sharp incisors press into her own flesh. She considered telling him she didn't know - that she was as clueless as he was, but she knew he wouldn't buy it.

"What language was that?" he asked before she could even answer his first question.

She sighed. If she was going to be honest, she had to start somewhere. "Norwegian. But it's archaic. I don't suppose that dialect has been used in centuries."

"Your language," he said, and she nodded, "...and his."

She nodded again, albeit cautiously. Klaus had known Stefan would not be able to understand. This was deliberate attempt to lock him out.

"The text message before, was that also...?"

"It can't be written down exactly, but I knew what it said."

"Which was?"

"I miss you. Come home to me."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to - but you were so mean to me. You made me angry and I wanted to make you suffer a little bit."

"And this message?"

"More of the same, 'I miss you, where are you'..."

Stefan was angry at her for keeping secrets. He was quiet, but she could see from the tension in his body that he was trying to decide how to direct his rage.

She bit down a sigh. All of a sudden she knew she'd been alive too long. She felt stretched and bent out of shape by a dozen lifetimes of experience that had only taught her how to be a better predator, not how to understand love. Perhaps she would never find happiness. Maybe she didn't deserve to.

Stefan looked down. When his eyes returned again to her, Rebekah felt as though he could really see her. Not the blue-eyed blonde that many men lusted after, nor the stone-cold bitch that women often feared - but the scared little girl inside the woman - the sister, the friend. He saw it all. The fear and shame that existed alongside the speed and strength. He saw it, and understood it - because he lived it too.

She didn't know at what point he had picked up her hand, but his thumb was rubbing concentric circles in her palm, as he often did when something agitated him. It became apparent she had misread his earlier tension. His agitation wasn't caused by anger, it was excitement. His voice became a little higher, his eyes a little brighter.

"Then it's worked! We've drawn him out and he'll come for you. We've got him," his eyes sparkled malevolently. "Reply to him. Tell him to meet you," he added, "make him think you hate me and can't wait to get away from me. Tell him you think you have found a way to give me the slip, and then when you both get to the agreed meeting place, I'll be there waiting." He licked his lips as she chewed upon her own. "I've been thinking about it and I think I have had an idea about how to kill him-"

She bit down on her own lip so hard she drew blood. The smell of it interrupted his train of thought.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing..."

"Bex, what is it?"

"Nothing. It's a good plan."

He sensed her lack of enthusiasm and tried to bolster her. "This is your chance for revenge, to be free," he squeezed her hand and let his green eyes glint with the victory he knew was within grasping distance. "Don't you want that?"

She didn't respond. When he looked at her again, it was as though the fog had suddenly cleared and he could see her real thoughts.

"Don't tell me that you want to let him live after everything he's done to you?"

His tone was incredulous. She couldn't bring herself to answer, remaining awkwardly quiet. He grew silent once more as he let his thoughts re-order themselves.

"If you go to him, I'll have nothing."

That was all it took - his words were emotional blackmail and she hated him for it. She pulled her hand violently away from his. What she wanted to do was get up and walk away, but the tray on her lap trapped her in the bed. The previously alluring aroma of syrup now assaulted her nostrils with sickly sweetness.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I wouldn't want you to lose your bargaining chip," she snapped bitterly.

"Don't be stupid-"

"Oh, so I'm stupid now am I?"

In a fit of pique, she picked up the tray and tossed it against the wall. Everything smashed and clattered noisily to the floor. A pancake oozed a snail's trail of goopy slickness down the paintwork, then plopped on top of the broken porcelain like an afterthought.

"Great. Feel better now?" Stefan said sarcastically, his anger barely contained.

He stood up and toed one of the jagged pieces. She flung back the duvet and ran with vampire speed out of the bedroom. Before she reached the kitchen, he had her pushed up against a wall.

"Klaus killed your mother in case you have forgotten. Your mother, and then he lied to you about it for centuries. And when you said you were leaving him to be with me, he took your life from you. Rebekah, Klaus doesn't need you, he just wants to control you-"

"But at least he loves me!" she yelled. Her tears came without her willing them and fell in big, heavy droplets down her cheeks. "He loves me, Stefan," she said again almost apologetically.

Stefan dropped her arms and stepped back. He began to pace the kitchen floor. "Is that what this is about? _Love_?"

"Damon killed your nephew and your best friend. He stole Katherine from you, and now he's stolen Elena - but do you love him any less? No!" she spat back, chest heaving. Stefan didn't answer, nor did he dispute it. "Yes, I love Nik. I thought you of all people would understand."

She grew quiet, waiting for him to respond. Instead he pulled out a kitchen chair and straddled over it so that he sat with the back of the chair pressed against his chest. He folded his arms, rested them on the top of the chair and looked at her. She watched as he chewed his lip, his handsome features marred by a scowl.

"You want me to let him live," he finally stated.

She slowly nodded her head. He was quiet for a moment.

Anger, conflict, jealousy - it had taken him years to understand that these would always be a part of his relationship with Damon - but the decades had also shown him that he was scared to walk this life alone. He needed his brother. Always had, always would. Why did he assume she'd be any different?

"What are you thinking?" Rebekah asked in a low voice, stepping towards his chair.

As soon as she said it, she wondered if perhaps she didn't actually want to know the answer to that. He reached out for one of her hands and placed it beneath both of his. If outwardly he was troubled by her confession, then that simple gesture reassured her that his feelings for her were unchanged. A warmth spread through her body from the inside out.

"You know Damon's not safe with Klaus alive," he said to her after a moment's quiet reflection.

"I'll talk to him, Stefan. Please, let me try."

"And if you fail? What then? You know what you ask of me is too risky."

"I won't fail. It's not an option - I know that. Stefan, please trust me. You used to once..."

He grew quiet, and then looked at the hand he had been caressing. "What happened to the ring I gave you?" he asked with sudden curiosity.

"I tossed it that night I caught you with the girl you had your hands all over." She pulled a face - angry about it even now. The ring had only been a gift, nothing serious, but she had taken it to symbolize the potential for something more.

Stefan gave her a rather wicked smile, his sage eyes twinkling just a little too much for her liking. "Oh yes, I remember that night now..."

Her lips bowed into a familiar pout. He gave her a little smile.

She had loved that ring. It was ruby and diamond set in an ochre-gold filigree band. He had told her it matched her eyes - which was a joke that had earned him an elbow in the ribs before she had broken into a smile. For the longest time after throwing it away her right hand had felt completely naked. She would never tell him so, but she had searched the area where she had thrown it for days afterwards, with regret deep in her heart.

Back in the present time, Rebekah could feel her arm being gently tugged. He pulled her down towards him and caught her sulky lips in his. He drew his hand softly over her cheek as he kissed her gently. As she pulled slowly away, his eyes sought hers.

"You're so beautiful, how could I have even looked at another girl?" he asked. "I was an idiot."

She shrugged childishly, but secret pleasure at the compliment shone through her otherwise grumpy demeanor. He let his smile linger a moment longer, then he reached up and traced his hand over her face, letting his fingers finally come to rest under her chin. He lifted it so she had nowhere else to look but at him. Suddenly he became serious.

"I should have fought the compulsion - fought for you. I should have fought the devil himself to keep you by my side."

She blushed prettily, and let her other hand join both his, "Stefan, I know what was taken from us and I won't let Klaus forget that," she said in a low voice. "We could have been happy together."

"We still can be," he said as his eyes searched hers. "If you still want me."

She looked at him seriously. "You know I do. I never stopped loving you."

"But Klaus..."

"But nothing. I'll deal with him. I'll speak to Elijah, I know he'll help because he hates all this fighting. He wants peace and our family back. And Nik doesn't want to be alone any more. He was already tired of running and now with Mikael dead, all he'll want is us back by his side. He can fight me, or Elijah, but he won't fight us both. And he won't wake up the others without us."

"You seem very sure. But it sounds like a gamble to me."

"I know him, Stefan. Just like you know Damon. I'm asking you to believe in me."

He nodded. She let go of his hand and walked around behind him, threading her arms around his neck.

"You know, the first moment I saw you I knew I had to have you," he told her. He could feel her smile, "You were telling me off even then! But you lit up the room with your presence. Even if you weren't a vampire, I'd have known there was something otherworldly about you."

She kissed his cheek, and he turned in her arms, sliding off the chair and repositioning himself so he sat on it properly. He pulled her down towards him and she straddled him, placing her arms around his shoulders and looking into his eyes.

As he stared back, he could finally see just who Rebekah was. A woman with a mind alive with memories of a hundred lifetimes lived, but only one dream. To be with him.

Suddenly he was overwhelmed by the swell in his heart. For the longest time Elena had left him feeling hollow and burned out, but this strong, true woman with whom he now shared his life, had fast become everything to him.

"You're perfect," he said, causing the apples of her cheeks to glow and a shy smile to grace her features. He gently placed both his hands on her face and drew her closer. And as their lips met, he could finally admit what he'd been afraid to. He loved her. Perhaps he always had.

His tongue traced the tip of hers, pushing at it, dueling with it. Their lips locked, giving then taking, pulling then pushing, their bodies humming with desire as they took each other deeper into the fire. His hands pulled her tight against his body, stunting the exclamation of desire that she moaned into his mouth. Her fingers dug hard into his shoulders, then slid around his back as she pressed her breasts against the planes of his chest. They were both desperate for more contact, more everything.

She rocked her hips forward and bore down onto him, her arousal meeting his. He groaned into her, his hands traveling over her back, fingers splaying over her spine and moving down onto her ass. He pulled her center even harder onto his straining cock. A sigh escaped her lips as she threw her head back. Her hair slid softly over the shoulders of his navy blue silk pajamas that she wore. She gyrated unhurriedly, firmly, against him. Her lips formed a sultry 'o', which drove him near wild. He drew her slowly upright once more, his hands finding the hem of the pajama top. She crossed her arms and helped him pull it over her head.

As Rebekah dropped the top to the floor in a silken heap, he realized how long it had been since he had really looked at her. She had a fair, ethereal beauty. Blush lips and crystalline eyes were the highlights of her soft-as-a-peach, almost opaque, skin. She had a slender torso and breasts that were plump but firm, with coral nipples that when teased by his eager hands grew hard as ripe berries. Her golden crown of hair fell in waves across her shoulders, haloed by the sunlight.

She leaned forwards and slowly undid the buttons of his shirt. In no time at all she was shucking it from his shoulders and running her hands over his abs. She caught his eye and gave him a smile that started in her soul. He smiled back. I've missed you, his eyes told her. Everything about you.

She opened his fly and he closed his eyes and bit down on his lip as her hand slipped into the fabric of his jeans and grasped his rigid cock within his boxers. The contact of her slender hand on him made him shudder with desire. She played with him for a while, stroking whilst she kissed him, until he could bear it no more. His hand caught her wrist to stop her, then he tugged at her pajama bottoms, untying the bow that she had pulled tight to hold them up. At vampire speed she stood and removed them, and he reached his hands out greedily to touch her flesh once more. She tugged at his jeans and shorts and removed them both in one go. He kicked them to one side. She ran her hands up his thighs, feeling the sinew and muscle flex beneath her palms. She moved to straddle him again, and he put his hands on her waist, lifting her up so he could bring her down on his engorged length.

She used her hand to guide him, and Stefan moaned deeply as he slid into her wet warmth. She clenched, arching towards him, finding the purchase she needed to rise high by rocking on the balls of her feet. She set the rhythm, rising and falling as his hands encircled her hips. He kissed her again, his open mouth sliding over hers until he was quite lost in her. Almost automatically, his hand moved between her legs, dipping through her coarse hair and into her soft folds until he found the place that made her begin to buck against him with short impatient breaths. His middle finger curved against her as he thrust deep into her and she began to lose herself to the orgasm he wanted her to have. She cried out as she came, and he moved faster, until he was pushing into her at vampire speed. She grabbed the back of his neck and plunged down hard on him and he cried out as he spilled into her wetness.

He rested his head on her glistening shoulder, and laid his hands around her back while he panted. He had intended to carry her to his bed, but he had not been able to make it that far. She was stroking his head and began to laugh.

"What is it?" he mumbled into her skin.

"It's just, well, that was good. Really good! Well, pretty amazing actually..."

He smiled and kissed the bit of her that was closest to him. "For me, too."

She pulled him tighter. "Stefan?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"I won't let Damon or Elena get hurt."

"I know that," he said, then he pulled back to look at her again, the rosy blush of exertion in her cheeks as perfect as a watercolor. "And I need you to know something too."

"What is it?" she asked, looking deeply worried.

"I love you, Bex. I really, truly, do."

She stared at him in surprise, maybe faint disbelief at finally hearing the words she'd waited nearly a century for. But it only lasted a moment before she threw her arms around him. Rebekah held him tight, briefly breaking away to kiss him again, to show him how much she loved him in return.

And as he stroked her naked body, Stefan vowed to spend the rest of their lifetimes making up to her the fact that he ever doubted it.


End file.
